


If It's Gone, Why Try?

by Engiffyserce



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Autoimmune, Health jazz, M/M, Multi, domestic AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-01-26 20:05:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1700840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Engiffyserce/pseuds/Engiffyserce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t supposed to be what it was. The pain? The worse it would ever get. Curable? Maybe not completely, but close to it. Treatable? Definitely. Life ruining? I think not. A mild case of joint wear-and-tear was all it was.</p>
<p>And now? He sat in an examination room with nurse after nurse asking for blood and another piss sample for whatever tests they were running.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just trying to vent out my feelings about a genetic disease my mother and I have.

            It wasn’t supposed to be what it was. The pain? The worse it would ever get. Curable? Maybe not completely, but close to it. Treatable? Definitely.  _Life ruining?_  I think not. A mild case of joint wear-and-tear was all it was.

             That’s what everyone said. That’s what they all thought. Eight years of the same thing.

 

_"The worst it could be is some advancing on the arthritis. Nothing too big."_

Ryan said with confidence-a smile even to him when he had told him about the upcoming trip to the doctor.

 

_"We’ll just get you some strong Advil, buddy. It’ll knock the shit out of the pain. No worries."_

Geoff shrugged off when he had complained about the [at least at that point] significant pain.

 

_"You’re fine, asshole, now get off the floor. We’re rougher in bed."  
_ Michael growled when he complained about his lower back after a precariously rough wrestling match.

 

_"If your excuse for not cuddling is your shoulders are hurting I’m never jerking you off again."_

Ray had joked when he couldn’t find the energy to frolic about in bed with his one of five partners.

 

_"Where the fuck have you been? You almost missed the Minecraft Let’s Play!"_

            Jack had grouched when he had been stuck in the bathroom trying to cool himself down after doing absolutely  _nothing_ -sweat dripping from his face.

            And now? He sat in an examination room with his boss, lover, and pseudo father-figure with nurse after nurse asking for blood and another piss sample for whatever tests they were running. Geoff gripped the man’s hand tightly, turning pale from the growing tension of waiting. A regular check up was all that it was, right? Then why were they running marathons around them and taking every drop of blood from this kid?

"Geoff?" He called softly, shaking profusely. He sat on the examination table in baggy shorts and in his t-shirt painted with ‘Tease It’ on the front. The Southerner glanced at the Brit, trying to seem as strong as possible.

"Yeah, Gav?" His voice wavered, thick with anxiety. The gamer stood next to his boyfriend, stroking the top of his hand gently, soothingly. He tried not to wince when he heard the shaky breaths the boy took in.

"What’s happening?" Gavin’s voice was little more than a whisper breaking Geoff’s already brittle heart.

"I’m not sure." And it was true; Geoff hadn’t the slightest clue. However, his mind went to the worst possible conclusions; conclusions he didn’t want to think about. Weak bones? Blood disorder? Infection?  _Cancer?_

For eight years the Brit got the same answer of mild to moderate Osteoarthritis, but then it changed. They had found something in Gavin’s bloodstream, he was sure of it. Maybe he had taken too much of his low-dose pain medication? That was the case for many days. [As it had been on this cold and icy afternoon]

            After what seemed like four eternities, Dr. Robbins finally came in with a sullen look and dim news. He was quite a nice man, though fairly older. Dark grey eyes and salt and peppered locks; stereotypical doctor. Usually, Gavin and Geoff would joke about him, but now no words were spoken out of seriousness. Right now, they expected anything and everything.

"Mr. Free, I have some bad news. It looks like you have a major spike in White Blood Cells. This,  coupled with terrible blood pressure readings and a notable increase in inflammation around your joints have led us to believe this is much more than Osteoarthritis," His voice was monotonous, but there was definitely a pushed down panic. Gavin’s breath hitched.

"So, what’s wrong with him?" Geoff spoke, trying to keep an even tone. His own panic was rising incredibly fast and it did not help with a paling Gavin shaking even harder than before next to him.

"Well, this is the part my colleagues and I have been stuck on; we don’t know right off." 

            The older man’s shock rapidly turned into anger. If the Brit hadn’t squeezed his hand tighter, he was sure he would have thrown a punch. Instead, he stood there, mouth agape, eyes burning with rage.

"What do you mean ‘Don’t know?’. I don’t  _pay_ you dicks for ‘I don’t know’. I pay you for answers and treatment!” The elder growled, taking a small step forward. The doctor looked to the man, leaning back protectively. 

"Look, sir, I’m truly sorry. We’ve sent out his case to a local Rheumatologist and gotten word that he can see you within the next week. He thinks he knows a general idea of what is going on," Dr. Robbins managed, eyeing the situation carefully.

“ _General idea?_  What in the ever loving  _fuck_  would that be?” Geoff spat, teeth ground sharply. 

"I can’t tell you much more. This isn’t my field of expertise."

            And that was it for Geoff. “The hell it isn’t!” He took another step with no intention of stopping.

"Geoff!" The elder snapped back and whipped his head to see Gavin wide-eyed and on the brink of tears. He was shrunken with a fear. Not a fear of his own health, but for the doctor and what his boyfriend would do to him if the gamer’s hands weren’t interlaced so tightly. The Southerner stopped, softening quickly. With a moment of addressing the situation internally and struggling of the idea of not clocking the doctor in the fucking mouth, he gave an irritated sigh, turning back to the man.

"Fine, fine. Just-get me the number," Geoff demanded bluntly.

"Right here, sir. Mr. Free, just take more of your regular medication until the Rheumatologist can see you." He held out a paper and the gamer took it and folded it up quickly, shoving it in his pocket. Dr. Robbins gave his farewell speech and walked out silently. The elder helped the shaky Brit to his feet, eyes darkened with a self-loathing anger Gavin did not want to see nor expect to hear about later.

"Get your shoes and coat. I’m done with this fucking place." They walked out quickly, heading to the car. They plopped down without a word shutting the doors ever so softly. 

            It stayed that way until Gavin starting breaking down. He sobbed silently, holding his head in his hands. Geoff gripped the steering-wheel, staring out into space; held in place like concrete. The ignition had not been started and there they sat, in the cold, icy parking lot, grieving in their own ways. 

            It was a scary idea knowing that Gavin Free, their lovable prick, was ill beyond even the doctor’s knowledge. That he just might be dying. That he just  _might_  be on a short clock to death. Or—worse-

            -headed to a place of unimaginable pain and long, sleepless nights of tears and screaming and wishing to god he  _was_ dead, high off whatever legal medication they could give him to try and take the pain away; shit that would destroy his body from inside out.

            And Geoff Ramsey, the one who would sit through all of it with the Brit either way, almost wished the first were to be true rather than the latter. But somewhere, deep down in the pits of his shattered soul, he knew-

            Gavin’s life was ruined.

            The air was dense and choking, allowing the elder to grip the steering-wheel harder, knuckle white. His voice, so usually full of a relaxed sarcasm, now cracked with an uncharacteristic fault. As if his mind, body, and soul had given up already.

 ”I’m so fucking sorry, Gav. I’m so fucking sorry.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were ushered to the living room, four sets of worried eyes falling upon both men, though more centered on the Brit. The questions started quickly, yet were answered by Geoff with vaguer and vaguer answers as the little information the pair had was picked apart. The six men started to fall into nasty quirks that appeared when they snapped into varying levels of confusion, anger, disbelief, and above all, anxiety about a situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha reposting haha haha HAHA  
> [kindadonern]

"What do you mean? I thought the diagnosis was definite," Jack questioned as Geoff paced about the living-room. It hadn’t been ten minutes since the two had walked in. The eldest was quite the same as he was earlier in the car and Gavin looked a miserable mess tucked under the other’s arm. He had stopped crying, for the most part, and let the foretold shock take over. They hadn’t taken two steps in the door before the alarm that something was wrong went up. It had been Ray who noticed them, calling attention to it immediately from his station at the kitchen.

     They were ushered to the living room, four sets of worried eyes falling upon both men, though more centered on the Brit. The questions started quickly, yet were answered by Geoff with vaguer and vaguer answers as the little information the pair had was picked apart. The six men started to fall into nasty quirks that appeared when they snapped into varying levels of confusion, anger, disbelief, and above all, anxiety about a situation.

     Michael went around yelling about how the medical system is a good-for-nothing piece of shit and broke a mirror before stalking off to the bedroom, screaming profanity and whipping anything he could find. He, of course, was rightfully angry, though none were too sure it was the right time for the whole charade. It filled the holes of silence with a slurry of noises. Gavin had shrunk to the couch as the outburst continued.

     Ryan, being the most cool and collected, found himself worried with the Brit’s comfort. He picked the lad up and sat down on the seat, placing the man back in his lap. He stroked the Gavin’s sandy locks ever-so gently, careful to make sure that Gavin was as close to him as possible. The younger snuggled in gratefully, finding the sense of warmth and security overwhelming and succumbing to silent sobbing similar to earlier. Muttering encouraging words to the boy and listening to the the story from Geoff gave Ryan time to think of logical diseases related to Osteoarthritis. He could think of so many that branch off as cousins to the diagnosis, but they all showed up on blood cultures. Could it be something else; something even the professionals didn’t know about? The Southerner’s skin pricked with a new sense of fear.

     Ray stood awkwardly for a while, not sure where to put himself. He was worried, but not sure where he could really help. He didn’t know much about what Gavin had [or, well, thought he had] and didn’t want to infringe on the moment Ryan was having with him. Talking Michael down from his anger level wasn’t something the Puerto Rican was good at and he didn’t want to try, honestly. All too often was something whipped in his direction when he did. So, to bring himself to a compromise, after cleaning up Michael’s mess from the shattered mirror, he sat on the opposite end of the couch and brought his knees to his chest, listening carefully to what Geoff was saying.

     Jack filled his role of questioner and the glue that kept the six of them as close as possible; with a limit of course. He didn’t pull to hard for answers both Geoff and Gavin didn’t have and let the others fall into the normal behavioral patterns they held under stress. He knew Michael would come back soon and, usually, break down. He’d come to Jack first because he knew if he was on a high anger level, Geoff wasn’t too far behind him on the scale. The bearded man’s presence was always deemed a safe haven; even more than Ryan. Ryan’s analytics got ahead of neutral comfort sometimes and did nothing to calm someone like Michael down. [Although, Gavin and Ray found it quite relaxing to listen to the PC gamer’s rationality] Ray never found himself needed in conversation unless it involved him or achievements, so he’d tuck away in some corner for a while if he wasn’t reminded to speak up if he had an idea about a high-stress situation. He wouldn’t have to worry about Ryan; later the two of them would talk together about possibilities and what they could do.

     And Geoff? Geoff paced-

               and paced-

                           and paced.

     He couldn’t calm down and sit down for a long time, and when he did, for what a normal human being would have found absolutely draining afterwards, the eldest would then go on mumbling to himself about ways he could have fixed the situation somehow. It was unnerving and frankly it wasn’t the best thing in the world he could do right then. Either way, Jack stood behind his path as usual, inquiring on different things.

"I don’t know, dude. They’re referring him to a Rheumatologist," Geoff mumbled quietly, starting to lose himself in thought rather than fuming his anger. As he settled, another drew to attention. Ryan’s head snapped up at the medical term. His eyes seem to constrict, a broad concern crossed his face.

"We’re talking autoimmune? Are you shitting me? No, that can’t be what he said," His voice was an odd mixture of pain and a subconscious anger. The second oldest grimaced when the room went silent, gazes falling upon his distressed posture. Glances were also thrown at the lad sitting in Ryan’s lap. Thankfully, he hadn’t heard the comment as he had fallen asleep or things really would have been riled up. The silence dragged on for quite a while until Ray tossed out his two cents, questions now filtering through his mind as well.

"Hey Ry, what exactly is ‘autoimmune’?" He asked, words hollow with a certain queasiness none of them were used hearing in Ray’s tone nor did they want to hear ever again. Ryan turned to the other, opening and closing his mouth a few times before speaking.

"Autoimmune deficiency is when the immune system mistakenly attacks the body rather than germs, viruses, or other health related problems. It’s symptoms always vary from person to person, but pain is always a giant factor to it whether it be mild to severe. Not only that, but-" Ryan stopped as his voice hitched. The others waited patiently for the man to regain control of himself. When he did, he took a deep breath before continuing. Whatever his next sentence was, pained him terribly. "-it’s synonymous with the body destroying itself from inside-out."

Jack gave a airy curse while Geoff rubbed his face and Ray curled in on himself even more. “Do you have an example?” The bearded man asked, looking directly at the other. “What can we prepare for?”

"Well, there are many different kinds. I mean, we could be talking a cousin of Rheumatoid Arthritis or something like Leukemia or a rare type of cancer. Either way, he’s not going to be the same. It also makes sense why he’d been complaining so much. He’s hurting constantly without proper medication and I’m sure this weather isn’t helping." There was a heaviness in the air as silence fell once again. Geoff sat down, holding his head in his hands. Jack quickly moved over to him and stood at his side, rubbing his back. Ryan signaled Ray to come over to him, seeing as the youngest was now shaking. The Puerto Rican gladly slid over, tucking himself at the side of the two. The PC gamer wrapped his arm around the boy, pulling him close.

"So, he has a high possibility of dying?" Ray asked, voice barely a whisper. Ryan winced at the idea of losing the Brit. But, if it were cancer, they would have told them that. Even if it had been a slight possibility, leaving that cloud of uncertainty hovering over one’s head is pretty fucking cruel. The elder shook his head, explaining what little, hopeful reasoning he could give.

"There is a chance, grant, but not as high as we think and definitely not by cancer. No doctor would say we don’t know and not include the possibility of cancer. But, again, I don’t know and I’m not going to know until said doctors’ visit. He might be in trouble and he might not be. All I know is he needs us and we’re gonna be there for him." Geoff listened, head still in his hands. His mind swirled, but a certain thought seemed to encompass everything. A questioned gnawed at his very being, picking his brain apart one piece at a time, pulling at his skin bit by bit—

     _But, what if he does die?_

      And it broke him. It broke him so visibly that the tears started streaming and they wouldn’t stop. It was silent, sure, but nerve wracking all the same. Jack pulled him into a hug and let him get it out. The room was aired with swears and screaming from Michael as Geoff sobbed. It made Ray sick and Ryan look away ever so sheepishly. Once the youngest gent found the older man had calmed enough, he let go of him, now speaking to the others.

"Alright, come on now guys. He’s not dead and nothing is final. He’s sitting right here and he needs us to be strong. I’m going to go get Michael and we’re all going to take a nap. Clear?" Jack’s voice was firm and the message was read immediately. The lengthening silence was his cue to head to the bedroom. He opened the door and moved inside, closing it once more. There was some more yelling, from both Jack and Michael, and then a precarious thud. Ray could only guess on what had been broken this time. However, when it all stopped, Jack walked out with a sullen Michael in toe. if the situation hadn’t been dire, the youngest might have applauded the bearded man and his skillful ways of quieting the loud Jersey boy. "Lets get Gavin comfortable."

     Ray stood up slid over to the tattooed man and offered a hand. Geoff hesitated, but accepted the help. He stood up, albeit a little wobbly, moving to Michael who grasped the eldest hand tightly. Ray’s hips were held by the Jersey boy’s free hand as the three moved silently down the hall. Ryan picked Gavin up and stood, ambling towards the hallway to the bedroom with Jack at his side.

"So, are we staying up?" Jack whispered to the thirty-two year old. Ryan nodded, readjusting his hold on the Brit. The two older men would always stayed up and talk about what they could do after a major melt down. It was one of the things they did and did alone.

"We need to get an idea of what we’re up against. Whether or not we want to-" The Haywood trailed off as they entered the room. He placed Gavin down on the bed and undressed him, carefully to not disrupt the young lad. They settled him in the middle of the two king beds, the rest crawling up themselves.

     Ray lay at Gavin’s right, Michael his left. Geoff hugged Michael from behind, laying almost flat against his back. Jack lay next to the eldest, running soft circles over his hip. Ryan covered them with blankets, grabbing a small one for himself. He then sat on the bed next to the youngest with his feet tucked into the blanket, rubbing Ray’s back gently, reciting a few short stories the others always found comforting.

 

* * *

     It was almost eight at night and it was obvious no one was getting up nor were the six heading to work tomorrow. Burnie, Joel, and Matt would understand.

"Did you find anything?" Jack asked as he watched Ryan work on his laptop trying to find any information on Rheumatology and diseases related to what the doctor had said. The older man shook his head, running a hand through his brunet hair. Jack was pressed to his side, arm draped over the Georgian’s shoulders.

"I found some things, but I’m pretty afraid of some of what I’m seeing. Major bone deformities and break down into the marrow itself. Massive inflammation and swelling all causing a lot of pain. The known medications cause internal problems and the combination causes fatigue beyond belief. Fevers, chronic dizziness, intestinal distress, low immunity to infection, and feelings of vomiting and passing out are constant symptoms," Ryan answered, voice weak. The bearded man shuddered, finding a new fear in the whole thing.

"And to think I yelled at him for disappearing so much. God, I’m so fucking stupid," The younger muttered, disappointed in himself. The Haywood shook his head, leaning over to kiss Jack on the cheek.

"You’re alright. The five of us are all equally guilty. We dismissed it as something common and easy to treat. Just because it’s crashing down on us doesn’t mean we can put ourselves down," The PC gamer comforted, giving a small smile. "Like I said, he might be in trouble or he might not be; we just don’t know."

     Jack pondered this, rubbing the corners of his mouth in deep thought. Ryan was right. No matter how much they fucked up before, they had to be there for Gavin and, for sanities sake, the other three as well. It was always like this. Something happened to one of them, Ryan and Jack stepped in as the parental guidance. However, it put an immense strain on them and the small reassurances they gave each other were like pieces of shining gold. He sighed, shaking his head. Jack, however, did have one more question, something that brought on a large amount of curiosity. “Hey Ryan?

"Yeah?"

"How do you know all of this? Like, did you look it up before?" Ryan went silent, fixating his gaze on the laptop screen. His jaw tightened, face rigid. Jack knew he hit some sort of sore spot on accident. It wasn’t something that he, especially with Ryan, could do easily. Ryan was solid in both mind and body when it came to these things. He knew what to do, when to do it, how to do it, and so forth. Emotion and problems were mutually exclusive to the man. The bearded Austin-native tried to backtrack quickly. "Ryan, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-" The elder cut him off, voice monotonous and unreadable as his small speech started.

"A close uncle of mine had a form of Leukemia. Chronic Myelogenous Leukemia to be exact. It left him suffering for a long time. He couldn’t do much. Some days he couldn’t eat it was so bad and other days he was so drugged up, he’d just watch the sun go by. We kept him on a heavy morphine drip at the end of his life. And one night, he just kind of passed away. I was about twenty when he died. I kind of obsessed with gaining information on the whole thing and ended up with way more knowledge than the average person," Ryan turned to Jack, a steely look in his eyes. He was trying to suppress something, though the battle was being lost rapidly. The younger kept his gaze away from the others face, trying to keep his own distress down to a minimum.

     He didn’t stir, however, as he listened to the rest of the story.”I used to know more about it, but as it kind of faded from my day-to-day life when my parents stopped caring; I stopped caring. Or more liked forced myself to stop caring. I guess I just—didn’t think it would catch up with me here. Especially not with you guys.” Jack sat uncomfortably, not sure how to answer. He didn’t really want to answer anyways.

     He couldn’t say ‘It’s okay’ because it wasn’t. He couldn't say ‘It’s over now’ because it isn’t. He couldn't say ‘It was the past, this is now’ because it was again staring Ryan and the rest of them in the face. And he definitely couldn’t say ‘Gavin will be fine’ because Gavin wasn’t going to be fine. Sure, he might not die from it, but it wouldn’t go away. None of it would. Jack settled with something his mother had told him for many years, setting his hand gently on Ryan’s. “We’ll get through it. The six of us; together.”

     And Ryan, the cold, calculating PC expert, found himself smiling hopefully, silently agreeing that they would do whatever it takes to help Gavin and the rest of their family.

     Together.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was seven in the morning on a Friday and they were taking off work, again. It had been a week since they were all in the office.On Monday: no one came in. On Tuesday: Ryan went in with Ray to explain the situation and edit a couple of videos. On Wednesday: Jack, Michael, and Ryan recorded a Versus, lying to the camera that the others were on their own adventures and probably 'dead', forcing some good smiles and hollow laughs. On Thursday: everyone except Gavin came in. However, their day was cut in half when they got a panicked call from the Brit that his spine felt like it was exploding and he needed help. Now, they were taking Gavin for his Rheumatology visit, hoping for the best and dreading the worst.

It was seven in the morning on a Friday and they were taking off work, again. It had been a week since they were all in the office. 

On Monday: no one came in.

 On Tuesday: Ryan went in with Ray to explain the situation and edit a couple of videos. 

On Wednesday: Jack, Michael, and Ryan recorded a Versus, lying to the camera that the others were on their own adventures and probably 'dead', forcing some good smiles and hollow laughs.

On Thursday: everyone except Gavin came in. However, their day was cut in half when they got a panicked call from the Brit that his spine felt like it was exploding and he needed help.

Now, they were taking Gavin for his Rheumatology visit, hoping for the best and dreading the worst.

Gavin sat in the far back of Jack's minivan sat next to Ray and wrapped up in a blanket, playing with the hem of his Creeper-themed jacket. The Brit was a nervous mess and the Puerto Rican, who had become so fatigued and illed by the stress and confusion, was dozing off, head placidly placed against the older man's shoulder. Michael wasn't there, purposely and for obvious reasons, and Ryan wanted to watch over him explaining that the Jersey boy needed someone. Although, the two remaining Gents guessed that the Haywood really didn't want to face what had obsessed him for so long. Geoff was driving, knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel too tight and Jack sat shotgun, running through all the things he and Ryan had talked about.

_His life is going to change, Jack. From this moment on, our Gavin is someone we have to be careful with; forever. We're gonna change everything for him. We have to._

_We can't lose him._

The Austin native gave a sigh, tapping the arm rest. He was anxious and worried. What was the doctor going to say? Was anything going to  _actually_  change? How was Gavin going to take it? How was  _Geoff_  going to take it? Jack ran his tongue across his teeth, having all his thoughts bounce around his head. 

Honestly, the middle aged man didn't expect much. There was always this sinking suspicion that the answers were few and far between, even at the hands of the professionals. It was like a festering wound that couldn't be fixed with a few simple fixes and maybe a medicine or two. No, it was deeply rooted under the skin. It was bubbling and rotting and just waiting to explode. It wanted to spread uncontrollably. It wanted to kill what shouldn't be killed. It wanted to rip apart something that would be impossible to fix. And no one had the answers for it. Jack sat forward, watching the asphalt speed past on the highway exit.

"We're here," Geoff called out, pulling the younger Gent from his thoughts. They pulled into the parking lot of white, fading building. It was large and blocky with windows framing only the bottom of the structure. The eldest parked the van in one of the spaces, turning off the ignition and signalling everyone to get out. Jack jumped out, closing his door and opening the sliding side door met with an airy groan. 

"Gavin?" He asked, pulling a lever on the side of the seat to fold it down. The Brit crawled out. He was pale and seemed a lot smaller than he already was, but it didn't seem like anything was wrong. Jack helped him out, handling his boyfriend's waist gently. When Gavin's feet hit the pavement, the elder stepped back, quickly scanning for signs of problem. The younger shook his head, turning towards the car.

"It's Ray. I think he's sick or something," Gavin answered, giving him a very worried look. Jack gave a warm smile, rubbing the Brit's back. After a quick squeeze of the sick boy's shoulder, the gamer hopped back into the car, leaning awkwardly to get a good look at the New Yorker curled up on the back seat, wrapped in the blanket.

"Hey, Ray? Are you okay?" Jack's touch was soft as he reached over to stroke the youngest's shoulder. Ray tried stifling a whimper, but ended up letting out a soft sob. Jack reached over to stroke the gamer's hair, noticing how warm he was when his palm grazed his forehead.

  
_Shit._  Jack thought, knowing it would be at some point or another. It didn't surprise him if all this stress made Ray ill. He never dealt with it well.

"What-what if Gav is really sick? What if he dies? I can't lose him. I couldn't live with it--live with myself," He whispered, voice cracking. The bearded man didn't respond, not knowing how to respond. Like with Ryan, he couldn't say it'd be alright, because obviously it wouldn't be. Jack let the thought flow, hoping that buying time would give him an idea.

He wish he had had an idea. Something that would have comforted rather than compromised. He wanted to to say something good rather than a last ditch effort, but it wasn't.

"We'll figure it out," Jack finally offered, internally cursing himself for it. Ray stayed quiet, tears starting to roll down his face. He was shutting down already, Jack could tell. There was no getting through to him at that point. After a moment of silence and bickering between the elder's self and self, he decided to leave his youngest boyfriend be. "Do you want to stay in the car?" He  _should_ have had a better idea.

"Yeah," He sniffled, rolling over to look at Jack. His eyes were glassy and blank. He wasn't thinking about anything but the wrong. "I don't want to go in." The bearded man nodded, ignoring the pangs of sharp guilt and leaned over to give a kiss he hoped was comforting. The youngest's lips were hot, sweaty, and rough; uncharacteristic and worrisome. When Jack pulled away, Ray gave a small, empty smile, turning back over. 

The elder maneuvered his way out, closing the door and locking the van. His soles hit the pavement, reminding him that this wasn't just a fuzzy nightmare he was facing. No, it was real. It was real that his Michael wasn't happy, depressed even. It was real that his Geoff was losing his mind over this. It was real that his Ryan was being sucked back into the dark abyss he had crawled his way out of and desperately tried to forget. It was real that his Ray was becoming incredibly ill because of the situation and it was definitely real that his Gavin was slowly crumbling into their arms.

Jack's grip on the car door tightened before he turned around to look at the other two waiting for an answer. "He's not feeling well," He simply stated, trying his hardest to make it the complete truth. He wanted to get home. "Lets get this appointment over with. I doubt it'll be much information for it being the first visit." Geoff gave him a look before placing his hand on Gavin's neck gently, moving them towards the building entrance. Jack followed them, glancing over his shoulder at the car. 

 

* * *

With almost two hours of waiting for the doctor, a bunch of nurses taking blood and urine tests, some hysterics, an angry conversation with an intern, and a quick, five minute conversation with the Rheumatologist named Dr. Llian, they were out the door with no more information than before.

"What the fuck does she mean, ' _I can't help'?_  Isn't she the expert?" Geoff growled, storming towards the car. Gavin was pressed against Jack, ambling behind the eldest. Once again, they had no information and another recommendation. However, the gave him some anti-inflammation; the  _good_ stuff. It meant a better feeling Gavin.

But it also meant he was more damaged than anyone first believed. He was deteriorating rapidly and they couldn't stop it. Just because they didn't even know what it was. 

Geoff was pissed. Geoff couldn't stand it. Geoff just wanted to scream at every so-called specialist. He wanted to jump the next one and pummel his fists in their face over and over again. Jack was disappointed, but hopeful for the next opinion. If they could find something, they could move forward, right? And Gavin was just as Gavin had been; scared and in pain. Although he had come to terms that the pain wasn't going away any time soon.

They three came to the car. The eldest unlocked the car and ripped open the driver's side door. The open air was full of a boiling rage and a fear of that entity. Jack shook his head, opening the side door for the Brit. 

"Is everything okay?" A weak voice called out, startled and groggy. No doubt they had woken him up from a nap; his dreamy gaze and crooked glasses were sure signs that the man had tried to diminish the feelings of guilt, pain, and panic with sleep. Ray struggled to sit up, using the interior of the car to help him. "Did the doctor say anything?" There was something hopeful in his lazy tone. Something on the edge that just  _screamed_  'is Gavin okay?'. The Austin native stood there with a blank stare, not totally sure how to answer. He could quash what little spark of hope the gamer had or he could answer with a false wording; just a white lie and nothing else. He didn't get the chance.

"No," Geoff answered curtly, slamming his door shut once he had sat in his seat. Jack winced, helping Gavin in the back with the youngest Hunter. The elder tried his best to ignore the _utterly_ _shattered_ facial expression Ray had. He couldn't face that kind of disappointment again. Not after last weeks outbursts and private talks of depression and guilt, Jack wasn't ready to face it again. He silently thanked whatever higher power out there that Ryan had been able to help him. 

Ray helped the Brit snuggle in again into the blanket, pressing against each other. Jack moved to the front seat, jumping in the passenger side. He sat back, taking a deep breath. He wanted nothing more but to relax and sleep soundly again with his five healthy boyfriends. But he knew that wasn't an option anymore. He knew it would have to be a daydream from another life time. Just like so many other things. The bearded man closed his eyes, droning out his thoughts as best he could. Or, until a foreign voice ripped the thickening silence.

"Jesus, Ray! It's like you're a furnace," Gavin squawked, heart dropping at the realization. He pressed the back of his hand to Ray's forehead, eyes wide as the youngest's body heat registered on his skin. The younger man gave a weak smile, grabbing the Brit's hand to hold it away from his skin. He didn't want anymore stress on the sickly man and he certainly didn't want to be reminded of how sick he was getting himself.

"We know, Gav, we know. We need to get  _both_  of you home," The bearded man informed quietly. He looked to Geoff, reaching over to grasp the eldest's hand. He could feel the tension in Geoff's fingers. He could feeling the seething hate for people he had at this moment. He could hear the screaming in Geoff's mind. He could see the guilt etching into his facial features. It was devastating. "Lets go home, Geoffery. They're sick and tired. Do you want me to drive?" The eldest squeezed Jack's hand, taking a deep breath and shaking his head. 

"No, I'm fine," He answered, rolling his shoulders back. "I just--wanted answers, you know?" 

"Yeah, I know."

 

* * *

Ryan closed the bedroom door behind him, running a hand through his dark locks. Jack waited for him in the short hallway, hands shoved into his pockets. The animator gave a smile, moving over to talk to the other. 

"How's Ray?" The bearded man asked, looking over the Haywood. Jack was happy to see that at least Ryan was in okay spirits. His eyes, although rimmed in red and incredibly glossy, he was stable. In just, he was probably the most stable of them all.

"He's tired and running a fever of one hundred or so, but he'll be fine. He's more worried and scared than anything. Michael's napping with him now," Ryan answered, throwing his thumb over his shoulder. Jack took a deep breath, being embraced by in a tight hug by his boyfriend. It was warm and the younger never wanted to leave his hold. "It's alright. We're in it together, right?"

"Right," Jack breathed, nuzzling into Ryan's neck, breathing in his familiar scent. It always reminded him of butterscotch and vanilla. They pulled away to look at each other with absolute love and admiration for each other. They loved each other with all their hearts and it was never going to change. "So, now that we have nothing more than before, what do we do?" A small frown tugged at Jack's lips, pinning Ryan with this bitter guilt. Ryan shrugged, giving a look of complete and utter conclusion of 'I don't know'.

"We wait until next week, I guess. Keep him on painkillers and deal with the cards we've been dealt. For now, I guess we take care of everyone," The elder was sincere in that suggestion. They really couldn't do anymore that they already had.  "Like always-" Ryan stopped mid sentence, attention caught by the creaking of the door hinges behind him.

"R-Ryan?" The two Gents glanced at the door down the hall, surprised by a pitiful-looking Lad standing in the doorway. His arms were wrapped around himself and his wide eyes were red and puffy with tears streaming down his face. His dark hair was mussed and his pajamas were sticking to his tan skin, glued by the slick sweat coating his body. Ryan let go of Jack, grabbing Ray's shaking shoulders. 

"What happened? Are you-" The Puerto Rican's sobs cut the PC gamer off. He held the younger to his chest and cradled him closely. He let him calm down before looking at him again and waiting for answer that he was hoping wasn't an option.

"Michael did something horrible."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael had really fucked up this time and now he couldn't go back. Ray had felt them. Ray had seen them. He had panicked and practically ran out of the room in sheer terror. The redhead could hear the sobbing and rambling from his youngest boyfriend through the closed door. It was only a matter of time before the rest came in, asking questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow im so sorry this is so lATE

                Michael had really fucked up this time and now he couldn't go back. Ray had felt them. Ray had  _seen_  them. He had panicked and practically ran out of the room in sheer terror. The redhead could hear the sobbing and rambling from his youngest boyfriend through the closed door. It was only a matter of time before the rest came in, asking questions.

                Maybe if he acted like he was asleep they’d forget the whole thing. Or even maybe thought Ray was delusional and walk away. Doubtful, but Michael had to try.

                However, when that door opened, his fate was sealed.

"Michael, baby, are you awake?" Ryan asked calmly, shaking the redhead’s shoulder. He didn't respond. He didn't want to respond. He tried to stay quiet. "Michael, really I need you to get up so I can clean up your arms and legs, okay?" The younger sighed, hesitating.

                The Lad sat up slowly with the guiding hand of the Gent. Ryan pulled the covers away, revealing what had brought Ray to a point both Gents could have only described as breaking.

                Cuts littered Michael's forearms and thighs; bright red and oozing that crimson liquid that should never be seen outside the body like it was now. They were superficial, grant, but the man had done them in such a way that the openings were inflamed and jagged. They were meant to scar. They were meant to bleed. They were meant to be easy to cover-up without too much blood loss. However, Ryan could see where the meticulous fashion became haphazard with a combination of overwhelming emotion and pain. His thumb grazed the redhead's arm, admiring the fact that they were welcoming him back like an old friend.

                And with humor enough, Ryan recognized the repetition in his history. The demons that he had dealt with as a younger man was now plaguing the others he cared so much about. It was painful and ironic at the same time and yet the PC gamer could do little more than internally laugh at himself for all the terrible things happening. Maybe things happen for a reason. Maybe, it was his guardian angels telling him to give up. And he could give up. Right then, right now.

                But, just as fate seem to have it, he was brought back to reality by the quiet sobs from outside the door. Jack was still trying to soothe Ray. Jack hadn't given up. Ray hadn't given up. Geoff certainly hadn't and neither was Gavin. And by proxy, he shouldn't either. Ryan lived for his five boys and as long as they were going forward, he would too. But, had Michael given up?

                And to be honest, Michael wasn't sure himself. All he could think about was what had happened two hours ago. The first time that blade pressed to his arm, he didn't feel it. The water from the shower was incredibly numbing. However, as he wasted the hot water, his skin could feel every drop with every second. The water went cold and the intense pain radiated into every inch of his body. By the tenth, twentieth, and thirtieth, the pain was way too much. Tears ran down his face and his body started shaking and his sight was a milky blur with white edges and over saturated colors. He was losing it. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move with free will. All his body wanted was more and more and more. 

"How many know?" Michael croaked, brown eyes glancing over to Ryan with a deep rooted sorrow. The elder rolled his shoulders back, eyes trained on the younger man with such a soft, empathetic care. Michael was scared, terrified even. Ryan was methodical and all about the numbers. Feeling wasn't something under his agenda. But now, that's all his clear blue eyes held. There was no wall of facts. There was no calculations behind his method of success. There was just an all knowing pain etched into his features.

"Jack, Ray, and I. Plus you, of course," He answered, clicking his tongue at the end. That nervous tick, Michael thought, eyeing his lips in genuine surprise. It was only of Ryan's only tells; that soft click, the running of his tongue across his sharp teeth, and the quiet hums he breathed when something was staring him straight in the face. Those three were the scariest things in the world to hear and see. They meant things were incredibly bad. He was just as scared as the redhead himself. "Can you walk? I need you to come to the bathroom with me."

                Michael nodded, although still very unsure about himself. He might be able to and he might not. Ryan's arm wrapped around the younger man's waist, pulling him up to a standing position. The New Jersey-born swayed, not too sure on his feet. However, the elder didn't let go as he led them to the bathroom connected to the room. Thank god it was there; Ryan wasn't too sure how he would have gotten Michael out of their room if the bathroom had been outside. 

                He sat the younger man down on the bath ledge, kneeling between his knees. Ryan then pulled out the first aid kit alongside a washcloth from inside the vanity. With a reach up to turn on the faucet and wet the small towel in hand, he began his work. It was a silent, tedious work. Pulling the gooey scabs and cold blood from Michael's skin didn't take long. The PC gamer was well versed in this activity. He had done this for himself many times. 

                And although it was not triggering, nor personally harming, it still made his arms itch. He still remembered the soft scratches on good days and the deep, painful rips on the bad. It wasn't something he liked to dwell on, but the scars were there and the temptation to do it can and has consumed him before. Even after seeking help. Even after promising not to do it again. Even after his late uncle had told him how special he was. It hurt.

                But, Ryan couldn’t allow his own, personal fatigues exhaust him at this point. He had someone else to take care of who couldn’t take care of himself. He finished up by dressing the wounds, careful to pull the gauze across tight enough to stop the bleeding, but keep the boy comfortable.

“Alright, Michael, I’m done. Let’s get you back to bed,” The older man was calm and comforting, standing up and helping his boyfriend to his feet. Michael was unsteady, taking a few steps into Ryan’s chest. The elder gladly took him up, steadying him and supporting him. The New Jersey man gave an airy thanks, hands grasping his boyfriend’s forearms.

                The Georgian slid to the younger man’s side, slipping an arm around his hips and holding him up. The redhead was thankful for the weight lifted from his hips. The cuts were really starting to burn. The two of them stood at the door for a half second, trying to judge their next moves. These were big problems they were facing and nobody refuted it.

                It was painful to deal with, both on the side of knowing and the side of _not_ knowing. When the elder opened the door, a panicky Ray and a very concerned Jack stood on one side of the entryway, a solemn Ryan and frazzled Michael on the other. They stood there for a while, eyeing the situation carefully. This could be bad, this could be worse. On the other hand, this could be okay, this could be great.

                It was up to the reactions of two, emotionally distressed men.

                Ray stepped forward, timid and nervous of every move he made. Ryan watched him carefully, allowing himself to step away from Michael. The next few moments could make or break everything. Either could walk away or _reject_ everything, accept what has happened and move on or become stuck in an endless loop of pain and suffering.

                Ryan held his breath as Michael walked forward, standing eye to eye with his lover. The two stared blindly, obviously waiting for the other to react. Whether it be affection or violence or more tears, both of them wanted a genuine, fine-tuned, reaction. Something that screamed either _I love you_ or _I hate you._

                However, the first reaction wasn’t the most expected nor did it come from the person the two Gents in the background would have deemed responsible for such response.

“Why?” Ray whispered, not moving. He was rigid and almost unforgiving in his movements.

                Michael winced, feeling the piercing conviction of the younger man. It was what he deserved, but he wasn’t so sure it was a question he could actually answer and that point and time. But, if he didn’t answer, he would become a martyr for no other reason than cowardice and he couldn’t have that.

“It’s okay,” The eldest Lad started, looking to the floor. He was ashamed of his actions and he sorely wished he hadn’t decided on this. “Really, it’s not a big deal-“

“Bullshit!” The Puerto Rican snapped, pressing forward. He had become heated. How was this _not_ a big deal? Michael Jones, _his Michael_ , resorted to physical mutilation because of the stress and the blatant ignorance of his five lovers. It was eating away at Ray and he was going to show it. “How _dare_ you say ‘it’s not a big deal’? Look at yourself! I wake up, hands covered in blood, _your_ blood, and you’re calling it nothing? Michael, you tried to _ruin_ yourself. Do you know how much those are going to scar? I’ll tell you, a _lot_. Did I ever tell you that I practically _lost_ my sister to that habit? Do you know how many nights I helped clean up the blood and stash the evidence from my parents? It’s a big problem, Jones!”

                By this point Ray was breaking down again. His shoulders shook and his words were forced through rough hiccoughs. He couldn’t do it anymore. Not this, not with everything else.

                The older Lad looked up, seeing the tears run down his boyfriend’s cheeks. His hands raised to cradle the former New Yorker’s face. However, they were slapped away and pinned to their owner’s sides. The usually temperamental male was taken aback, never before seeing such anger and aggression from his youngest boyfriend.

“Did you not _hear_ me? You. Have. A. Problem. I don’t need consoling. I need an answer! Why did you do it?” The Narvaez’s voice started cracking and the absolute desperation set in. His body was shaking almost uncontrollably at that point.

                Michael was frozen in fear. He never thought this would be the consequence. The effect on others. The _disgusting_ pain he indirectly inflicted on the people he said he loved and would protect with his life.

                The room was completely silent as they waited for the answer.

“I—I thought—I thought it would make the pain go away,” He muttered, shutting his eyes tightly. He gritted his teeth, waiting for someone, _anyone_ , in that room to come over and choke him out. To kill him right on the spot. He deserved it.

                But, no one did.

                In stunned silence, the room went dead. It was like everything had stopped, like everything was caught in those simple words; caught in the simple pain.

                Ray closed his eyes, reminding himself of how selfish the people around him actually were. They were trying to get rid of a pain that wasn’t even theirs in the sense that so many people believed it was. This was _Gavin’s pain_ they were feeding off of, not their own. All of them were pulling themselves apart because they felt guilty for not being there for the Free boy in the beginning, for pushing away the fact that something was actually wrong with the young Brit.

                They were going to kill Gavin if they didn’t stop trying to kill themselves.

                The Puerto Rican wrapped his arms around the now crying Michael, holding him close. “It’s okay,” He whispered, nuzzling the man’s neck. “It’ll all be okay.”


End file.
